


make my heart race

by morino



Series: [ verse ] - bend don't break (year 104) [3]
Category: springwave
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 08:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13655736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morino/pseuds/morino
Summary: The jelly bear flattens between her teeth without a sound, oozing the taste of orange onto her tongue. Jinah's tilts her head up and smiles."Oppa?"[ bend don't break (year 104; january);kihun/jinah]





	make my heart race

Petite fingers amble along a solid frame built under the unforgiving burn of stage lights, the supportive cheers of seas that are as welcome as they are deafening, the critical gaze of the authority snapping they fingers, in time to a song that will be all they hear endlessly for days and weeks on end. One, two, three, four. Five, six, seven, eight.    
  
Jinah's hand moves like it is learning a dance, following the path of least resistance on his chest. Her fingers walk over the creases in his shirt, careful. They linger, curious, when a finger presses down and the muscle beneath gives way, shallow dips under her touch. The tiny crater fills when her finger lifts and her curiosity fades. She moves on. Her mouth waters for something else.    
  
She peels the orange sticky, bear-shaped treat off his grape flavored brother and hums, satisfied, as she introduces him to the inside of her mouth. The packaging on Kihun's chest threatens to slide down and Jinah easily stops it in its tracks; she follows in its footsteps, shifting unnecessarily. Her knee doesn't move from where it covers his knee, her head does not separate itself from his shoulder—she moves and ends up exactly where she was before, but she feels closer to him, somehow.    
  
The jelly bear flattens between her teeth without a sound, oozing the taste of orange onto her tongue. Jinah's tilts her head up, smiles.    
  
"Oppa?"

 

.

 

The one thing he'd always noted about Jinah was how accepting she was of his sheer desire to do absolutely nothing. That they could take advantage of an empty dorm and just lay on his bed, as close as possible, letting silence surround them. Of course, she had her own ways of filling it. And he liked that too. He liked how she smelled, he liked the sound of her voice, he liked how warm she made him feel. He fails to remember how his life was before she was promptly more  _ in it _ . It makes him smile, and he shifts one of his hands so it's resting more against the small of her back, to remind himself she's still here.    
  
As if the movement of her hand wasn't enough to lull him into some peaceful state, the soft noises of whatever it is she's eating, as if he can't smell whatever juicy fruit candy she has this time - all of it helped. He would probably request a piece, but he's far more content with his eyes closed and on the border of sleep. He runs his tongue over his lips as he feels the packet slide, and he only makes an attempt to remind her he's still with the living when she refers to him by the particular term he'd previously disliked.    
  
He opens just one eye, turning his head just enough to look at her. There's a smile on his lips, and the hand which had moved to rest lower on her back lifts to brush her hair from her face. "Yeah?"

 

.

 

"Hi." Her smile stretches without exposing teeth, soft around the edges as it draws specks of light in the corner of her eyes; like she's told a funny joke and feels especially proud of herself for it.    
  
She purses her lips and rids herself of the fond smile as her gaze flickers down to her leg, and his leg under hers. The sweet in her mouth breaks into two pieces, then four. Her tongue plays around when each as she tilts her chin up to meet his eyes again. Her mouth is flooded by taste before she swallows it down, tucks the last two bitten pieces in her cheek to be saved for sooner rather than later.    
  
"Did you do anything with your hair today?" And then her eyebrows furrow, a mask of concern falling into place. She curls her lips into a pout, tries to distract from her first inquiry with belated concern that isn't wholly sincere. "Isn't your leg falling asleep? Do you want me to move?"

 

.

 

He returns the smile, opening his other eye so he can look at her properly. "Hey." Is all he responds with, his hand running through her hair before it's resting against her back once more. He keeps his gaze on her, watches the movement of her cheeks as she eats the sweet in her mouth. Her question catches him a little off guard, because all in all, when he's with her, his hair is the last thing he's thinking of. And whenever he has plans to see her, Kihun finds himself a lot less bothered by how it looks. "It's a little long. Just pushed it out of my eyes." He shrugs as best he can in his current position. "Why?"    
  
Kihun has learnt several things since he's been dating Jinah. One of them is to ask more questions, stop with his closed sentences and one word answers. Enquire, participate in a conversation with her because she's fun to talk to. He shakes his head in regards to her next questions. "Fine." He says with another smile. "I do want to kiss you, though." He points out, but makes no moves to do anything about it.

 

.

 

"It's cute. Like you," explains Jinah, making no attempt to stop her smile from growing into a proper grin. It's temporary and quickly settles back into a modest smile that is less likely to be pinned as blindly.    
  
She's skips over the part where she curls her fingers into wanting paws and tells him she wants to touch it. She hasn't tried in so long, but believes Kihun has probably noticed the way her eyes linger too long on the top of his head some days before dropping down to his face; sometimes she's too transparent. There is a roll of yellow tape cautioning her away from his hair, DO NOT CROSS printed several times over on the tape wrapped around his head.    
  
The idea of touching him there feels oddly intimate now. If asked, Jinah isn't sure she would know the answer to why. Maybe because it was one of the first things she noticed about him. Liked about him. It reminds her of days of simmering, unworried fancy that made her skin prickle pleasantly whenever she saw him; it makes her feel shy.    
  
She has barely swallowed the sweet in her mouth before her fingers are pulling out another from the bag - blue this time - and tossing it onto her tongue. She then rolls up the top of the packet, effectively closing it, and carefully places it on his side, next to the shoulder she isn't partially draped over.    
  
Then she shifts until she's resting on his lap and leans down to press their mouths together, her lips tightly pursed as she continued to nurse the newly acquired treat in her mouth. "Like that?" she asks when she pulls away to look down at him as she coyly bat her eyelashes, her hands on his chest.

 

.

 

His smile stays on his face as she speaks again, and Kihun wonders suddenly if his fondness radiates through as much as he feels it himself. He doesn't respond to her compliment, he knows he'll find some way to return it later. It's something Kihun is growing used to - finding ways to repay her kindness and compliments while still being a man of few words.    
  
He keeps his eyes on her as she sets about folding away her snack, and they don't leave her face even to watch what she's doing with the packet. He feels it by his shoulder and that's fine. Kihun lets his hands fall to her waist once she's sat on his lap, and he returns the kiss - too brief for his liking. "Like that."   
  
He shifts just enough so he can sit up, without moving her from his lap. His hands slide from her waist to her thighs and he rests his forehead against hers lightly. "Just not when you have stuff in your mouth." He points out, pressing a light kiss to the corner of her mouth.

 

.

 

She makes a point of pouting, whimpering feigned disappointment over the boundaries set. There is a large part of her that doesn't want to kiss him - fully kiss him - with something rolling around in her mouth. It even  _ sounds _ like a hassle, she can't imagine how much messier that would get in practice. But there is also a lazy voice masquerading around as a multitasker that promises it would be more productive if she did and poses one question: why not?   
  
Jinah knows better than to listen or even consider a word that voice says for longer than an idle minute or two. She bites down the jelly bear and tries not to mourn over the several seconds more of fruity goodness she's missing out on when she swallows it all down.    
  
Her hands find his shoulders as she leans back, opening her mouth for him to see. Her tongue must be blue, she thinks, that color has a tendency to stick around the most. "Ahh," she hums dejectedly.

 

.

 

He raises a brow as he watches her, as though he can see every thought she gives into whether kissing him is worth getting rid of the sweet in her mouth. He's honestly not that bothered, few things bother him truthfully. He chuckles when she opens her mouth, and he pretends to inspect it for a single second before he's nodding. "Okay." His voice is quiet, and he leans forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "Now I can kiss you properly." He points out, lips placing kisses along her cheek until they reach her lips. The kiss is still soft, a single peck for now. But then he's kissing her again, and it resembles more wanting than previously.    
  
His hands slide back up to her waist, and he considers the upsides or downsides of laying back down but taking her with him. Kihun settles on staying where he is for now, as he deepens his kiss.

 

.

 

It happens every time their kisses have just that  _ little bit more _ \- her whole body breaks into a song of goosebumps and well hidden shivers, the smile she always meets in these moments between them gracing her lips. There's a spark of excitement ignited within her whenever it happens, the resulting flames in her chest varying in intensity from kiss to kiss, day to day. But the one thing that stays the same is that she is always warm.    
  
Jinah can feel the heat forming in her chest, it's tendrils staying close to their source, uncertain of where to spill out first. Sometimes, they follow his hands.    
  
She pries one away from her waist, returns it with a slide all the way back to her thigh, slightly past the hem of her dress. It's not the hottest day, but her socks are high, her sleeves long, and her jacket, folded neatly at the corner of his roommate's bed, was heavy.  They were staying inside today; it was good enough. His fingers tickle her skin, and the warmth in even the barest of contact makes Jinah hum happily in the back of her throat.

 

.

 

Kihun pulls away from the kiss for a moment, just to busy his lips with the skin on her neck while he catches his breath. He lets his hand be moved, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her dress to trace circles on the inside of her thigh. "You taste fruity." He points out as he pulls his head back, a small smile on his lips as his eyes meet hers briefly. And then he's kissing her again, the hand not on her thigh lifting to press against her cheek as he presses his tongue against her lips.

 

.

 

"You're welcome," she murmurs under her breath, words encased in the body of a soft giggle before his tongue swiftly interrupts the sound. Both of her hands slide past his shoulders and clasp behind his back; with little trepidation, Jinah allows an approving moan to slip free and be muffled by their kiss as the seconds tick by and her end of the kiss becomes bolder, more forward and openly wanting.    
  
She likes Kihun a lot. And there are many things about Kihun that she likes individually, but never one more than another. She likes when they kiss, soft and chaste and fleeting, and getting to kiss him like this. She likes the way his imprint sticks to her for so much longer, likes bringing her fingers up to her lips and smiling to herself when the memory of it makes her skin tingle and the heart in her chest skip a few beats.   
  
For a moment, she pulls back. She breathes in and then out, and only keeps them apart long enough to shift on his lap and press her body closer to his. She takes in the shape of his lips and the color of his eyes before bending down to kiss him again, wasting no time in sharing as much of her enthusiasm as she had before.

 

.

 

He's smiling, he can feel it even now when their lips are pressed together and his mind is on nothing other than  _ her _ and what  _ Jinah _ is doing. But he knows he's smiling because he never seems to stop where she's concerned. She's light, she takes his mind off all of the issues his group has, the issues each individual member seem to want to share with the rest of the group so badly, even if it's unintentional. Jinah is no fuss, no hidden agendas, no argument of he said this and he said that. She's clear and readable and he feels like he fits so perfectly in line with her that he doesn't need to pretend. He doesn't need to force a smile because she somehow draws one from him without even trying. In moments like this, Kihun notes that she's  _ everything _ . In moments like this he reminds himself how lucky he is.    
  
And the feelings melt into the way he kisses her, the way his hand slides further down her thigh until his fingers can feel her underwear - he leaves them there. He doesn't press further, he keeps the tips of his fingers tracing featherlight patterns on her inner thigh, while he mouth is eagerly trying to taste more of the sweet she's just eaten. This time when he pulls away, his hand is squeezing her thigh to remind her it's there, and he's playfully nipping at her bottom lip between his question of "Can I?" As his fingers press lightly against her underwear.

 

.

 

She's reluctant to pull back, even though in this moment all that entails in keeping their lips separated. Her forehead still gets to rest upon his, and their noses are close enough that if she really wanted, she could shake her head back and forth and stifle puffs of laughter whenever it tickled.    
  
"Did you want to take it off?" Jinah asks, thinking for a second about what that would mean—climbing off his lap or, if she decided to be stubborn about staying exactly where she was, scooting around awkwardly and performing something close to an impromptu gymnasts display while trying to bend her legs in the right way before moving off of him completely.

 

.

 

Kihun shakes his head, letting his hand move just enough so that his fingers are slipped beneath her, pressing against what he's sure would be her entrance. He presses his thumb lightly against her - he feels he knows her just enough to guess where her most sensitive spots are. Kihun presses his lips back against hers.    
  
The kiss is soft at first, his hand settled in place without moving while he resumes the depth of their kiss before he broke it, once more wanting to greedily taste the fruitiness of her mouth, feel her tongue against his own, and simply become lost in them.

 

.

 

A soft sigh leaves her mouth, and Jinah carries the feelings behind it (relief that she doesn't have to move a muscle just yet, a gust of pleasure that urges her to move closer to him once more) into their kiss. The space between them has closed, and they're already so, so close, but Jinah cannot stop the feeling of wanting to be even closer the longer his tongue explores and takes what it wants from her mouth. Color bleeds onto her cheeks and up her neck when she softly moans into their kiss, lifting her weight off his lap to try and make it easier for him to touch her.

 

.

 

His thumb lightly circles around the place it's settled between Jinah's legs, taking advantage as she lifts herself so he can figure out where his hand is actually being placed, where he can have the most impact by doing as little as possible just at this moment. He pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, forehead resting against hers as he keeps his gaze on her, the blush making him smile. He considers the words he could say, but he swallows them as his hand moves to the hem of her underwear, abandoning its post so it can slip underneath the fabric. It returns to its position, fingers pressed against her entrance while his thumb circles her clit, the heat from actual skin on skin contact sending pure want through his body.

 

.

 

"O-ppa," she stammers out, syllables trailing off into a low whine. Her fingers pressed into his back. Her grip feels strong enough to keep her steady but she knows even the slightest suggestion from him will have them falling off and landing wherever it was he wanted them. She likes that about him, too. Likes the way that he makes her feel immovable and capable of weathering nearly anything, but can just as easily make her feel like putty in his hands.    
  
"Can I ask you," her tongue drags over the shape of her bottom lip, lingering near the corner for a moment too long as Jinah loses her train of thought to the slight jolt that takes over her hips. When she finds the right track again, she's several words away from where she started. "I'm—curious." The burning heat creeping up her neck feels like it's spreading. It feels worse around her face, too. She tries to ignore it, focuses on the sound of his breathing and the feel of his hand and how much the question is gnawing at her instead. "Do you, a-ah, taste like fruit, too?"

 

.

 

The term seeps into his skin and he smiles a little wider as it comes from her lips. He focuses on her expression, fingers familiarising themselves with the heat that's radiating from Jinah. His thumb stays circling, his fingers run along her entrance, following a circular motion, occasionally slipping shallowly inside of her. It's barely there, just enough to coat the tips of his fingers as he waits for the right moment to push them inside of her. Until it's pleasant for her, until she's worked up enough, until he can feel more than just heat against his fingers.    
  
Her question makes him laugh — and it's soft and playful as he thinks about how to answer it. "Ah, that depends entirely on what part of me you want to taste." He points out. "My mouth, possibly, if I had your sweets." He presses a soft kiss to her lips. "Anywhere else, possibly not." He doesn't know what kind of answer she actually wanted, but Kihun isn't about to tell her his entire being tastes like strawberries and kiwi.

 

.

 

"'Possibly,'" she echoes, feeling a small level of dissatisfaction with his answer. In response, Jinah's lips curved into a soft pout that is soon ruined by her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip as her body shuddered and she moaned for him again.    
  
Her hips do not know where they want to go, whether they want to keep her stay dangerously close to the fingers causing the tingles of pleasure running along her bone, or if they fancy the idea of trying to coax him into giving her more. She doesn't fall too far on either side, hips moving only in response to what she's given, balancing precariously on the line in the middle.

  
After a beat, she hums, eyes sliding open to look past his shoulder and onto the treats she left on the mattress. "Did you," she breathes out, voice shaky, "w-want one?"

 

.

 

He keeps his smile on his face, because possibly is the only answer he can really give her. There's a beat, a moment to 'think' about her question as he slips one finger inside of her, humming softly as he keeps up the appearance that he's actually considering accepting her offer. He knows he isn't, he doesn't need sweets when he has her on his lap and her lips so dangerously close to his. Another finger slips inside of her to meet his other, and he keeps his movements shallow so he can still speak to her. "I'm fine." He says softly, a kiss placed softly against the corner of her mouth. "Unless you want me to taste like fruit too, then I'll have one."

 

.

 

"I—"   
  
All of the words she knows, has sealed away in rows and rows of memory files through repetition and consistent exposure, on the backs of melodies she has listened to more than once, from the faces of labels and covers and pages she's read, every last one of them disappears. The vanishing act leaves her throat feeling dry mid-sentence and she chokes on the missing body of what she wanted to say.    
  
Her head falls forward, Jinah clinging to just enough of her awareness to ensure her forehead fell onto the shoulder furthest away from the candy she had been eating. The knuckles of her hands press uncomfortably where they meet her head, grip tightening even to pull a little at the fabric of Kihun's shirt, but the discomfort is entirely overshadowed by how his fingers feel inside of her. She makes a point to nod, to let him know what is it she wanted.    
  
It's harder to get the words out now, when she feels so much more aware of his presence and what the motions of his fingers are doing to her. But she tries, pushed through even as she stumbles over her moans and almost forgets how to breathe in the process. "I want. To taste you, too."

 

.

 

It's as though she never fails to surprise him, never fails to make him feel good and warm and wanting. He pushes his fingers further inside of her, starting up a steady rhythm which keeps in time to the circling of his thumb. "Okay." He smiles, gently rests his head against hers on his shoulder. His other hand moves to pick up the packet of sweets, and open it with just his one hand. He takes one of the sweets out and pops it into his mouth, the fingers inside if her burying to the hilt. "How?" He asks softly trying to somehow fold the packet back over. He abandons it after a second, turning his head to look at her.    
  
"What colour?" He asks, sticking his tongue out with the jelly bear in the tip of it, smile still pulling at the corner of his mouth as he watches her.

 

.

 

She can't find the gall to reply, not in the midst of her thighs attempting to press together even the littlest amount to keep his hand exactly where it was, so she could clench around his fingers for as long as she wanted. But her thighs forced open by his legs under her, framed by the way she kneels on top of him, and when Jinah moans this time around, she finds it difficult to tell whether it's because of the way he's making her feel or the limitations their position poses.    
  
She has no choice by to lift her head at his question. Not that she minds - she's eager to see the color on his tongue, blurred mind more than willing to believe enough time has passed for Kihun to paint it whatever shade he picked out. She's eager because it means she'll be able to kiss him sooner, press her tongue against his and feel for as long as she's allowed.

  
But there isn't any color on his tongue when she stares at it, eyes hooded. Not yet. There's a bear sitting on it, and Jinah crumbles a little under the weight of her impatience when she realizes she can't kiss him yet. "Red," she answers, her eyes straying from the bear to the shape of his tongue, how it looks pushed past the barrier of his open mouth. She whines loudly, squeezing her eyes shut to rid herself of the sight. It follows her, burns into the empty space behind her eyelids, and Jinah's lip is caught between her teeth again when she stops trying to brush the image away, embracing it as her hips slowly moved, trying to find a pace of their own.

 

.

 

He draws his tongue back into his mouth, sucking at the sweet while he looks at her. He waits for a few more moments, and then he's biting into it, the taste of what he assumes is meant to be strawberry dancing on his tongue. It's nothing compared to what Jinah's mouth tasted like - but he figures that's purely down to his biased opinion that she could taste better than anything, ever. And for a person who enjoys mostly food and sleep, he figures it says a lot about her.    
  
He increases the rhythm of his fingers, curling each time they're buried deep inside her. The angle isn't great, but it's enough for him. Hopefully for her too. "Can I ask you a question?" He asks softly, lips occupying the expanse of her neck which is within reach.

 

.

 

Jinah can only manage a nod; she cannot trust her own voice when it feels like so much - the words she once tried to say, her unspoken thoughts, all the noises that don't make it all the way out of her mouth, clipped at the edges - is mangled together and woven into a large ball in her throat.    
  
Maybe it's better this way, sometimes not being able to say how she feels. Especially not at times like this, when she is still fumbling to find a rhythm that matches his, hips always going still now and again, frozen by how good it feels when his fingers shaped differently inside of her. Because the only answer that she can muster for his question right now is 'anything'. She can almost imagine the way it would pour out of her, breathless and needy as her mind conquered up all of the possibilities, all the places his question could lead them to.

 

.

 

He likes this, he likes the way she is like this. He likes both of them together  _ like this _ . Completely raw and open and exposed to one another. Kihun doesn't particularly hide himself behind anything, and he's sure Jinah is the same. But watching her like this, it just adds to how open they both are. His thumb resumes it's circling of her clit, fingers twisting inside of her, curling and trying to draw pleasant noises from her. And for once, he stumbles over what he wants to ask her. Because he kind of knows the answer, and it should normally be simple. "I want to give you more than my fingers, do you want that?"

 

.

 

Jinah is nodding in earnest even before he gets through his whole question and her answer does not change after he does. She wants to look at him. Let him see the look in her eyes, let him see how certain she is. She tries. Her head dips, tilts enough to one side to try and nudge him away from her neck so they are face to face, nose brushing against nose, eyes meeting in the midst of it all. But ripples of an all-consuming, burning, mesmeric feeling that only Kihun seems to know how to conjure within her spread out from the apex between her thighs and up, tickling the knot of pleasure in her stomach. Down, until she can feel it in her toes. Her pants are moans, now, the two melding into one sound with every breath she takes, indistinguishable to her own ears.    
  
It drops delicately onto her tongue, the word that should scare her more than it does, a willingness that she should not find so easy to call upon:  _ anything _ .

 

.

 

He feels her pants and moans knock the breath out of him too, and it's pleasant and he's glad for it, for her, that she wants him. She wants more than his hand, his kisses, more than to run her hands through his hair because it's  _ off limits _ . Nothing, he decides, is off limits to her. She can have everything, take everything, and he would still be looking for things to give her. "Okay." It's a word he uses too often, a word that always has more weight than just a simple clarification of whatever conversation he's having. He's gentle in his next movements, slowly removing his fingers from where they're so comfortably settled, reluctantly pulling them from the hem of her underwear and resting it against her thigh. "Lay back, just for a sec, I want you here." His hands nudge her back, hoping she'll get where he's going.

 

.

 

Would it be ridiculous to say she feels dizzy and lost without his fingers inside of her? A presence that isn't new, not by any stretch of the imagination, not anymore. But every time he gives her attention there, moves against the slick heat that he always causes there, it still feels like something completely new. Maybe it is - maybe there's something different that she feels each time, like there are more things she has grown to desire about him everyday since the last time.    
  
No, she decides, taking a moment to gather herself before attempting to shuffle away from his lap. It's not the lack of contact between them that is leaving her feeling like she's been turned upside down. Her head doesn't clear even after she's had a few moments to get accustomed to the lack of him. No, it's just him making her feel this way, everything about him. His voice and his touch and the scent of him that always hits her so much harder when they're this close.    
  
"Uh," it's the first thing she manages to say once she has control of her tongue again. There is a second before she can open her eyes and when the world falls into place around her, Kihun so perfectly in the middle of it, it leaves Jinah feeling a little lightheaded. It makes her feel shy. "On—do you want me to be where your legs are? Or. Next to you?"

 

.

 

Kihun shuffles back just slightly once she's no longer in his lap, and his hands are moving to push the skirt of her dress up so he can lean to kiss at her thigh. "Stay here." He says, voice still soft as his mouth stays against her skin, kissing a line until he reaches the waistline of her underwear, once her thighs are no longer covered by her dress. He hooks two fingers underneath it and pulls, slowly at first, until he removes them completely. It's only now that he pauses, lip caught between his teeth as he looks at her.    
  
"How far?" He asks softly. "How far can we go?" He knows what he asked initially, he knows how far he'd like to go. But he wants permission, he needs her to tell him she wants it too. He distracts himself momentarily with more lazy kisses to the inside of her thigh, though it feels more intimate now that there's no barrier between her apex and his lips. He could easily move, easily give her his tongue instead of his fingers.    
  
He could. He doesn't

 

.

 

It's difficult to look at him from this angle, makes her heart do too many flips and twists that make it harder for her to breathe properly. She takes this as an opportunity to take in the bland, unexceptional ceiling of his bedroom. It looks different from this position, with her head closer to the bottom end of his bed. Barely, but still. Or maybe it doesn't. Maybe it's her nerves informing her that it does.    
  
Staring at the ceiling doesn't make her feel better. His lips are on her thighs, she can't feel them there. He hasn't moved even if her gaze has. Jinah worries at her lip for a moment before exhaling through her mouth, steeling herself. Her eyes fall and she looks down at him again. She feels like she's on fire.    
  
"Wherever—as far as you want to go."    
  
Her habitual  _ oppa _ falls off before she has the chance to say it, feeling a little wrong in this situation, somehow. A little too cute and sweet and young. She doesn't want Kihun to think that of her now. She wants to be attractive, alluring. It's silly of her to even think of it when flies in the face of the thought itself, but she wants to be a woman, now. Kihun's. The kind of woman Kihun would want like this.

 

.

 

Kihun moves just enough so he can hover over her, hands either side of her as he smiles down. He's shuffled just enough so that his legs are between hers - flipped from where they had been previously. "I wanna make you feel good - better, than just what my hands can do." He says softly, everything about him - okay not everything - is soft right now. The way he speaks, the way he looks at her, the way he lowers himself down just enough so that when he makes the direct grind of his hips, how much he wants her shows clearly in the semi hard bulge in his pants. He doesn't want to be crude or fast or do what he's used to. He's had sex before, but this is his first time with her. He wants it to be special - he wants it to be as lovely as she is. "Have you done it before?" The question is once again too casual, and he chews his lip as he buries his face in her neck, closing his eyes for a moment. "You don't need to tell me." He adds after a beat, a slow and steady grind of his hips following he words.

 

.

 

Her head falls to the right, then the left, knocking his gently on its path. A wordless reply accompanied by a soft noise of denial: no, no she has not. It is easy to tell him because everything is easy with Kihun. She doesn't even give herself the chance to roll the answer over several times in her head, try to find the perfect angle to expose this part of herself to him. She just  _ does _ .    
  
She does not think her face can get any redder but her hand darts up to cover her cheeks, just in case. Even though he cannot see. But it falters before it gets there, when he grinds into her heat, and is swiftly rewired to cover her mouth instead, a stutter of a moan muffled by her palm. It almost sounds like 'oppa', the word that gets lost in it. Jinah closes her eyes, squeezes them tight and hopes they will remember to stop being welded shut at some point because she would very much like to look at him, later.    
  
"Aren't—" she muses against her hand; the word barely touches her ears and she almost whines when she realizes she has to lower her hand to speak. Her fingers linger just under her lower lip after her hand has been pulled back, in position to return at a moment's notice. "Your pants. Aren't they—ah." Why is it more embarrassing when she can't  _ see _ him; isn't hiding supposed to make her feel the opposite?    
  
Her eyes are opening sooner than she had planned from them to, hand pushing on Kihun's shoulder just enough to get him in view again, and like a calming balm over her sprinting heart, Kihun's face makes it a little easier to breathe, think. She cannot meet his eyes, her gaze settling on the bridge of his nose and dropping off to his mouth now and then. "T-They're going to get—wet if you keep. Mmph." Jinah hastily covers her mouth and then removes it in favor of pulling Kihun back down, her face pressed against his neck.

 

.

 

He smiles against her skin, smiles because she's given him the trust to tell him, to let him be her first. He wishes, for a moment, that it was the same for him. That he hadn't been so nonchalant when he'd lost his and maybe- no. He stops that train of thought because what matters is Jinah and making this feel as good as he could. Instead he chuckles at her words, at her concern for his pants. Concern he doesn't share because it's not like he cares. It's not like she should care about the state of his pants. "That's hot, Jinah." He breathes - and it is, it's hot and it's honest and it makes him feel good about himself because  _ he did this _ .    
  
Kihun draws back from her, shuffles just enough so he can roll off the bed. His first stop is his top drawer, and the second stop is pushing down his pants and his boxers. He's slow about it, has his back to her at first. And then he turn, chewing at his bottom lip as he looks at her. "Remember when I said.. that his was for you only?" He breathes. "I meant it."

 

.

 

She can't look. She wants to, could physically do it if she just moved her eyes to the right place. But she can't bring herself to. She's a bit scared of might happen when she does, how she would react. It would be a far fetched assumption to think she would somehow go crazy, or start clawing at him like a starved animal. That's not what she's worried about. She worried about her eyes not moving away and her face actually catching on fire like it's been threatening to for so long now. She's afraid of the look he'd have on his face when she looked up, is scared that she would fall too quickly and deeply for that, too.    
  
That is why she makes the effort to keep her eyes trained on his face when he turns around, already flustered over what she managed to see when his back was facing her. Not that it helps much, with the words falling out of his mouth. " _ Oppa, _ " she chides with a delighted whine, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, face still burning. Maybe she's been doing this the wrong way, she thinks, and moves to rectify things by covering up the lower half of  _ his _ face with her hands instead.

 

.

 

He finds himself chuckling happily at the way she says oppa, the way she moves to cover his mouth and how overbearingly cute and sexy he finds it all at once. He lifts one of his hands to gently move hers away from his mouth. He doesn't do anything else, he doesn't close the space between them like he thought he wanted to, instead he stays stood with her hands loosely held in his single one, smile on his face even as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.    
  
The next words that leave his lips are a mimicry of the type of thing she would say, a gentle, teasing phrase about how she was covering the wrong area, and she's kind of a perv. He drops her hands once he's finished, lips pressing against hers in a needy kiss. "How do you want this?" He asks once he pulls away. "On my lap, like before. Or on your back?"

 

.

 

Jinah believes that she would like to drown very, very much. She wants his arms to be wrapped around her legs and for his bedding to melt into water and swallow the both of them whole. Kihun, like an anchor, helping her sink further and further down.    
  
The desire only intensifies when she looks at him for a moment, trying to gauge which answer he might prefer, before giving up and settling for her own. "...Both?" Her lips purse, apparently determined to not let her speak again. But Jinah pushes them apart with ease, makes them shape the words waiting in line on tongue. "Whichever would... feel better? For you." When her mouth clamps shut this time, Jinah doesn't make any efforts to reverse the motion. She thinks she likes the yes or no questions better - they are so much easier to answer.

 

.

 

He raises a brow at her initial answer.  _ Both _ would be nice, if not a little too labour intensive, for her. He figures. Maybe. And then he decides it wouldn't. He presses their lips together briefly, while he repeats her answer. "Both." He settles on that. "And this is for  _ us _ ." He points out, nudging her back again as he climbs back onto the bed. "We both need to feel good." He adds, his hand slipping between them once she's laying back on the bed. They return to their previous placement from earlier, two fingers slipping easily inside of her and beginning a steady rhythm. "This... until you want more. If you want more." He breathes. "Do you want to take your dress off?" His hand pauses suddenly.

 

.

 

"I'm fine," she squeaks out, hands immediately shooting up to cover her mouth again. Foiled by the yes or no question she wanted, Jinah instead pours every last ounce of her focus into the heat steadily building in her stomach once again, hips canting off the mattress a little as she tried to get his hand moving again.    
  
She was fine; there was no reason for her to believe her dress would come away from this in a state other than creased and properly disheveled. In fact, she finds that she likes the idea of that the longer it stays in her thoughts. And maybe she'll never be able to wear this dress in public again, too quick to think back on this moment right now, of the tangy punch of fruit on her tongue and Kihun looming over her.

 

.

 

"Yes, you are." He slowly removes his fingers from himself her once more, dropping his hands to the base of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He drops it on the bed beside them, moving until he's back between her legs like before. His hands shift her dress up a little, just so it's no longer covering her thighs, so he can position himself into a more comfortable place. He wraps a hand around himself, guides himself until he can press the head of his cock against her entrance. He stays shallow, barely even inside her, as he presses their lips together.

 

.

 

When she returns his kiss, Jinah is tentative, gentle. There is a dash of disappointment that covers her tongue when she slowly pushed past his lips; she had meant to ask if he wanted more than just the one bear, had forgotten to ask if he would have minded having a burst of sweet flavor in his mouth.    
  
"I—wanted to..." her lament fades into the depths of silence, not quite forgotten but safely stored away for the time being. Her hands transfer to his cheeks, then down to his neck. They seem to settle on his nape when her tongue's motions became bolder, Jinah licking into his mouth with a low moan as she considered what might happen if she tried to move her hips. Barring the slight tremors of anticipation that rattle her thighs, Jinah keeps still, trusting in Kihun to guide her through this better than she could navigate on her own.

 

.

 

He swallows, unsure what her words are leading to, thinks he might need to stop. But the sentiments aren't related to him stopping, and she breaks off and the kiss is hungry and he moans softly around her tongue as his own meets hers, tries to pick out the flavours of the fruity sweets she'd had earlier, wonders if his own is still lingering. His hands are kept firmly on the mattress as he carefully, gently, pushes further inside of her. And he keeps going until he's buried at the hilt and moaning into the kiss - too much to keep his lips on hers. " _ Fuck. _ " He breathes, and then he's instantly apologising for his bad language. Language he doesn't really use. "God, damn." There's a breathy chuckle as he presses his face into her neck. "How's that? Is that alright?"

 

.

 

A moment passes, hesitation filling the tips of her fingers as they lifted a few inches from his neck. To travel up or down, that was the question. Her fingers remain suspended in the air as Jinah forces out a noise she hopes sounds like affirmation, because it is. It's just difficult to deal with all at once, and a part of her is amazed she even managed an answer at all.    
  
Out of habit or apprehension, Jinah's fingers eventually fall onto the space where his neck meets his back, nails lightly grazing the surface as she breathed in, out. She doesn't know how exactly to describe the feeling this new position brings to the forefront of her mind. As it is, she's having enough trouble making sure it is isolated from every other thing flooding her thoughts. Like the elated skip her heart makes when he laughs close to her ear, or how much she liked the curse that rolled off his tongue when he pressed inside of her.    
  
"Did you want—do I move?" There are no experiences for her to pull from, only drawn pictures here and there that she had peeped from Heejung's bookmarks, buried under a mountain of folders. And even if they were accurate, or at least enough to lead her through this, Jinah can't put her faith in that alone. Not when she has Kihun, who she does not think she would ever be able to doubt. Not for a second.

 

.

 

He keeps his head resting on her shoulder for a moment, trying to grow accustomed to the tight heat surrounding him, to form a sentence that won't result in a pitiful moan as it trails off. And Kihun realises he's met with two ways to answer this - one involves him doing all the work and the other involves asking her to help. He doesn't mind which - they both work. He pulls his head back once his mind has stopped spinning, hands resting either side of her head now. "When you feel comfortable to." He whispers, lips pressing gently against hers as his hips begin to move - a steady pace which involves him drawing out almost completely before sliding back in. And each time he does it he has to choke back a pleasant moan - fight the curse that wants to spill from his lips. "Let me know - I just want it to feel good for you," Kihun gasps, as he settles into a more easy to match pace.

 

.

 

"O—Kihun," she corrects herself, and wonders for a moment if that's okay. She remembers him telling her it was once, months ago, and her calling him her prepared title in response. Was it still okay, even now? His name feels strange on her tongue - not typically. Usually it makes her smiles a bit brighter, has her remembering snippets of their last conversation or replaying the memory of his hands resting on any part of her, idle or not. Calling him by his name feels different, somehow.    
  
She wants to try it again but doesn't get the chance. The moan that bubbles up her throat is sudden, taking her by surprise as the sound of it hits her ears. And all too quickly, her body is catching up with everything that he's doing, playing it loud and clearly for her to experience. They're having sex. Jinah bites down on her lip, sobs in embarrassment after another moan passes her lips, shaky and pitchy and in no way attractive. But Kihun caused it, just like he's making her ears flush and the heat he's sheathed in throb, and for that reason alone Jinah doesn't try to hide it. Or the moans that follow.    
  
Her movements are not consistent or knowing or even in the ballpark of steady. Her hips start, trying to gauge when his hips when ease down so they can meet in the middle, but her timing always seems to be off and even though the punishment for getting it wrong isn't unpleasant - she still gets Kihun inside of her, her hands clasped behind his neck to keep him close. But each botched attempt ends with her stilling her body again and breathing until a particular thrust takes her breath away, and the thrusts that follow coil her up enough times that she tries moving her hips again, and the cycle repeats.

 

.

 

His name sounds so foreign coming from her - he's so used to oppa that everything else just sounds  _ strange _ . Not in a bad way, it's just different. It makes his smile widen and his eyes flutter closed. He pushes himself back just enough that he can see her a little better, hands sliding to grip at her waist, to try and guide her hips to match the pace of his own, especially now that he increases it again. "You feel- _ ah _ -" He breathes a laugh as one of his thrusts, angled just right, hits him in the stomach. "So good. Jinah, oh my god. You're so perfect." He hums, sliding back down so he can press his lips against hers, hands dripping back by her sides now he hopes their pace will continue to match. Each thrust draws a deep main from him, and his kisses stay light as he can get them.

 

.

 

It's difficult, almost frustrating, that the rhythm he had guided her hips into starts to slip the moment his hands disappear. She doesn't know why, and doesn't feel very perfect when she can't even get this much right for him. It felt so much better when he was helping her; Kihun drew entire constellations onto every surface of her mind and made them pop into a glittering show behind her eyes. She could barely see past them, didn't want to see anything other than blinding white and the pitch black that followed.    
  
He still feels nice, amazing, rocking into her like this. Even when she fumbles with her pace, his movements seem so sure, are relentlessly pleasurable, make Jinah feel safe despite her own faults. Her hips always snap up to meet his too early, move too fast or too slow against his own. She breathes an apology against his lips, and another, and another. There's a special one she murmurs when she moves her hand down and feels soft locks brushing against her fingers. Somewhere between his hands falling off her hip bones and her pace faltering spectacularly, they had found their way there from his neck. She doesn't let go, hopes that he understands.    
  
It feels like nothing short of a miracle when she finally,  _ finally _ , hears the slap of skin against skin, her hips meeting his at the right time. It must be a fluke, she thinks with a slur to her thoughts, and remains still for a few beats before she's crushing her lips against his, harder now, determined, and moans joyfully when she gets it right again. His name is an incomprehensible mash of noises against his lips but Jinah doesn't mind, repeats the way she moans it into their kiss because she's giddy and dazed and sensitive in the best way, shivers caused by his every thrust traveling through her whole body now that she's gotten the pace mostly right. Her legs easily wrap around his waist; she wants to him here forever, for as long as he'll allow.

 

.

 

His moans are a little frantic, still overwhelmed by how hot she is around him, still growing used to the fact that he is actually inside her and she's this close to him and he's making these noises come from her. From her. Jinah. The Jinah who was at one point so reluctant to touch his hair because it seemed so off limits - it's a dumb thing to compare this to, he knows that. But he's so grateful that they're here, that she trusts him enough. He's so grateful that he gets to be the one who shares her first experience of  _ this _ even if it comes with added pressure of wanting it to feel amazing for her.    
  
And when the lewd noises of skin on skin mingle with his heavy breathing, he feels elated. Because the sensations caused by their hips meeting in time wraps around him, hugs him so close in this tight and binding heat. The hands in his hair add to everything - it's something that feels so intimate for him. And he never wants her to let go, he never wants her to be away from him, he wants this closeness for as long as possible.    
  
He can barely keep his moans low, can barely stop the repetition of her name leaving his lips. It tastes good - better than any jelly bear. Kihun breaks the kisses he's been trying and failing to give her, breathing too raspy and lips too eager to do anything but cooperate. Instead he rests his forehead on hers, eyes open so he can see her face. He has so many things he wants to say, all of them eaten by grateful and guttural groans.

 

.

 

_ Kihun, _ she pants, throat constricting around the last syllable of his name and causing her to groan it out, disjointed.  _ Kihun, _ she calls out to him, the boy who could not be closer to her even if they both tried.  _ Kihun, _ it falls from her lips like a desperate plea, her body burning hotter the longer his eyes are on her. It feels like nothing she can fully describe, like being undressed and cherished, having every last inch of her examined.    
  
Her eyes flutter shut, unable to keep looking at him when he's looking back at her like that. The grip she has around his legs tightens as her hips stutter in their movements again, but for once Jinah cannot bring herself to feel so bad about it. Not when her fingers are curling around locks of his hair, her lungs struggling to supply her with the air she needs as she wheezes out something resembling a moan, low and needy and ticklish as it crawls up and out of her throat.    
  
_ Kihun, _ she does not manage to say in time, his name cut off by the sound of her moaning, audible despite the teeth she has digging into the swell of her lip. She remembers this, knows what this rush of heat is. It starts from her stomach and makes her heart feel like it's bursting. It's the same as when his fingers curl just the right amount and Jinah can't do much more than crumple into a satisfied heap against him. It's like that but  _ more _ \- she can feel him so much better like this, and it only makes her wall clench tighter around him, if it were even possible. Her entire body shakes with it, desperate to hold onto this feeling, fearing what might be left of her when it's gone.

 

.

 

The way she says his name, the way it reminds him that this isn't a dream and they're actually doing this, it's all stored in his mind ready for the moment he lets go. The moment she drags him over the edge that he doesn't want to be dragged over. He wants this to last as long as possible, he never wants to be away from her heat, from her in general. And letting go of the ball of pleasure in his stomach will do just that. Briefly, maybe, but it's inevitable. The same way it's inevitable for her to break in the repetition of his name. And he pulls back as much as he can to see her face as soon as he feels her clench around him.    
  
It's good. It's so good and he feels so goddamn blessed with the sight and the feeling he's met with. The heat is almost too much, he notes, and he's groaning in unison with her as he thrusts against her orgasm, to help her ride it out in time now with the pacing of her own hips. A gentle chorus of 'yes' and 'god' release from his lips each time his hips meet hers, and he balls the covers beneath his hands into fists as he feels the untangling of the knot in his stomach.    
  
There's little spacing between her reaching his peak and him allowing himself to be pushed over the edge. He thinks it's how hot she feels around him still, he's certain that it's the noises she made as she came. His head buries itself in the crook of her neck as he rides out his own orgasm and the remainder of hers. The only word on his lips is her name.

 

.

 

All she can muster are soft, abrupt moans in the back of her throat. If her eyes were wet, Jinah might have assumed the sounds she was making were a prelude to her crying. But she was so far from doing anything of the sort. Her body is reluctant to stop moving, but eventually she cannot gather enough strength to keep up the movement of her hips, a gooey sense of fatigue latching onto her muscles and making her motions feel slow and her body heavy.    
  
Her throat feels clogged up by all the words she never said, all the choked off noises that never quite made it out into the open. It's uncomfortable trying to swallow it all down and Jinah sobs quietly into the air again, tilting her head so it's pressed against his. Her hands have fallen out of his hair, settled somewhere between his back and shoulders, and her legs feel like they'll never be able to unwind from around his waist. She thinks she wouldn't mind if it didn't, if she was stuck to Kihun like this for days on end.    
  
Maybe without her dress on, though. It sticks to her skin in awkward places, the folds it has made during their... during this feeling uncomfortable wherever they sit on her body. One of her sleeves has slid down, exposing her shoulder, and it feels awkward to have it slope was it was not made to. But none of that discomfort can take away from how nice it feels to have Kihun this close to her, how her heart pounds against her chest, thirsting for even more of his attention.

 

.

 

His breathing slows, once his hips finally stop moving and he's able to let the pleasant ache seep into his skin. His lips explore the expanse of skin available to him, around her neck and shoulder. He presses featherlight kisses against her throat, tongue dipping past his lips occasionally to trail over skin. He pulls back slowly, hands sliding down the covers until he can reach around himself to gently untangle her legs from around his waist. "Hey." He hums, lips meeting hers briefly while he pulls out of her, a choked groan leaving his lips as he removes himself from the heat and slickness of her. It's reluctant, but he knows one of them needs to make decisions, and he decides he's better suited to dealing with the aftermath of this sort of thing.    
  
Kihun settles back down beside her, laying on his side so he can still see her. "Jinah?" He asks softly, a hand lifting to brush her hair from her face, to rest against her cheek as a gesture for her to look at him. He wants to make sure things are okay - that it wasn't too fast or too little for her. He wants to make sure that he did all the right things - he did on some level clearly, but he wants to make sure.

 

.

 

Her automatic response is to roll onto her side and try and huddle for warmth, but her hopes for that are quickly sliced through by a knife with the tag  _ Jinah's dress _ engraved on one side of the blade. She whimpers unhappily at the way the material bunches up when she turns, feeling more uncomfortable now that she did not have anything else to distract her from it.    
  
So she takes it off. Well, she tries. The process is in no way smooth; Jinah has barely lifted her back off the mattress before her hands are grabbing the skirt and trying to yank it off, starting from the bottom. It refuses to shift a few times, caught under the weight just below her lower back. After she gets that out of the way, the next thing she fumbles with is figuring out how to pull her arms out of her sleeves. Her body twists left and right from the waist up, not helping the process in any way, and it isn't long after that that Jinah simply decides to give up. She feels too drained for things like patience and clear-headedness, her brain too melted to take the time to think such a simple task through.    
  
With a loud, grouchy whine, Jinah flops back onto the bed with a heavy thud, arms stretched above her head, covered by the material of her dress from her head down to her chest. It doesn't help the situation when she shifts her leg and realizes there's a lot more of her on display than just her stomach. "Oppa," Jinah whines again, a cry for help. She presses her thighs together as her body turns towards him, arms moving helplessly under the haphazard tent of fabric she's made.

 

.

 

The sight is rather an enjoyable thing to see, he notes. And he's eager to see how well she manages to remove her clothing when he can see clearly that there is absolutely no chance of her removing it when it's bunched up and she's  _ laying _ on it. He bites his tongue, holds back the sarcastic comment he would normally say about he fact he did  _ offer _ to take it off before they started. Instead he just watches her, not wanting to interject in case she managed it. And he could give her props for it. But she doesn't, she gives up and he's left chuckling as he pushes himself to sit up and shift just enough so he can pull the clothing the rest of the way off her body. When he face is uncovered, he presses a kiss to her lips, smiling once he pulls away. "There we go." He places her dress just by his shirt, and then rolls off the bed to pull his boxers on - he notes that it's probably a better idea.    
  
Kihun returns to the bed, settling back in his position by her side. "Let's try again. Jinah?"

 

.

 

She practically burrows herself a home trying to press into his chest, her arms doing a menial imminent of work to get one of his arms around her. It's more of a suggestion, the way she weakly drapes his arm over her waist before letting go in favor of snaking her arms around his waist instead.    
  
There's still a hint of a pout on her lips, Jinah simmering down from the flare up of embarrassment she just went through willing her eyes not to follow him as he got off the bed. She should probably feel some of that embarrassment towards her display, too, but she isn't lucid enough to carry a torch for both instances at once. And she got a kiss for that one, so it couldn't have been so bad. It takes her a bit to get around to him gently prodding her, and when she finally allows herself a moment to acknowledge it, she does so by trying to lay him down on his back. Just so she can rest on top of him, head still rested upon his chest as she tilted her chin up to look at him, humming as her reply.    
  
She thinks, maybe, it would have been better if she had simply stayed in her side. She resolves to figure that out later, and if she's lucky, maybe Kihun will sort it all out for the both of them.

 

.

 

As always, Kihun has already reverted back to his sleepy way, he's looking at her with hooded eyes and a lazy smile, his arm staying over her waist, dipping to try and pull her closer to him. It lasts a few moments and then she's deciding to move again. He lifts his arm, but returns it when she seems to have settled. And he's about to speak, but then she's moving again. He obliges, laying on his back and raising a brow once he feels her on top of him. "You're so wriggly." He chuckles, fondness seeping into his words. His hands rest on her waist, fingers tracing circles where they're placed.    
  
"Was that alright?" He asks, and it's not the words he had in mind to say straight away but they work. They work for now.

 

.

 

She can think of a thousand ways to describe it, and alright seems like the most underwhelming word to pick out. But Jinah doesn't argue against his proposed measurement, nodding her head and humming again before she's scooting up his body. She moves just far enough to hide her face in the crook of his neck, trying her hardest to ignore the fact that she's on top of him and isn't fully dressed. She glances down for a moment, considers shuffling around again just so she could maybe pull a blanket over her legs, but quickly ditches that idea in favor of keeping close to boyfriend. Her nose wrinkles, still not used to the flood of bliss that overcomes her whenever that word is attached to Kihun, lips curling into a small, secretive smile close to his neck.

 

.

 

"Good." He closes his eyes, lets his body grow accustomed to having her so close, and even though he is used to it - there's something different about it now. He figures it's because of what they just did, he's still reeling from being her first, something he never imagined would touch him as much as it currently is.    
  
"I'm glad." He breathes. "Thank you." Kihun adds quietly, mind trying to focus on the pattern his fingers are making against her bare skin. He thinks he should offer her his shirt, maybe he should move them so hey can wrap up in the blankets. Instead, he settles for his arms being the only thing to wrap around her. And his voice is quiet, tired, when he admits what he didn't really expect himself to.    
  
"You know, I love you, Jinah."

 

.

 

Her breathing wavered, the no longer steady pattern seemingly resetting when she inhaled. She could feel it, the way her body gave the faintest of jolts, like she's been confronted with a jump scare that she knew was coming but still couldn't stop her reaction to.    
  
Jinah blinks. She exhales slowly. Her heart swells.    
  
She might have feared the thing growing several sizes too big to be kept contained in her chest, but she can't find the time to be worried about that when there's suddenly so much she wants to do. Like nuzzle her nose against his neck, laugh quietly as her lips graze his skin, higher and higher until Jinah was climbing past his jaw and hovering beside the corner of his mouth. It sounds so simple, the way he says it. Like everything else, Kihun makes it easy.    
  
She fails to suppress the gentle moan that passes through her lips when she presses them firmly onto his, one hand sliding up to cup his cheek the more she prolonged the simple meeting of his lips and her own. She hopes, dearly, that he can tell she's smiling.

 

.

 

She's still here, she hasn't run a mile like he's often been told people should when the l word was involved. But honestly he doesn't understand why. If two people feel that strongly for each other, why shouldn't they tell one another? Why shouldn't he be the one to take the first step? The mess of s group he was currently in was example enough of all the ways silence could go wrong. So why would he actively seek out ways to destroy what he had with Jinah? It was better to be honest, to share how you felt. At the moment you felt it.    
  
He returns her kiss, and her moan, and his hands are lowering themselves to the swell of her ass, with no intent other than to rest them there while he kisses her back, feeling so weightless at the confession being off his chest. Or what he assumes he should feel like after such a sentence.    
  
He knows that there's so much more that h could say, so many things he could tell her about how happy he is right now, about how grateful he is. How thankful and wonderful he feels just because of this period of time. How pleasant his skin feels with her touching it, how beautiful she is. He wants her to know that. That she's gorgeous and perfect and everything he's ever and never imagined he would want. It makes little sense to say out loud, he realises, so he doesn't. Instead he tries to convey his words into their kiss, taking steady steps to try and nudge her to sit up, never breaking the kiss.

 

.

 

Her curiosity wins out over her desire to push Kihun back down and ask that they both settle down together and sleep. She's free for a while, knew she would be when she stopped by and had hoped to spend as much of her free time with Kihun as she could. Even if the time she spent with Kihun involved one or both of them fast asleep in each other's arms, it would still be time well spent.    
  
But Jinah allows her body to be brought up into a sitting position, hands winding around his neck and holding onto each other near his nape again. It's with a healthy dose of reluctance and a sudden need for air that Jinah pulls away from their kiss, eyes closed as she gently bumped her nose against his.

 

.

 

They aren't sat upright for very long, as he nudges her until she's on her back and he can rest on his side. He leans back to pull the covers over the two of them, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer to him. He didn't know at what point his group would return, but he figured they had time to sleep off their bliss. "We should do this again sometime." He hums, smirk on his face as he presses his forehead against hers. "But first, we'll sleep."

 

.

 

Jinah couldn't help the grin that took over her face, fondness combined with the amusement she felt at their similar goals. She finds a way to be comfortable in nothing but the socks that are keeping her legs warm, and decides that it must be Kihun (and his warmth and the smirk that sends her heart jumping at the chance to make a series of flips and the promise of getting to do this later) that makes it easier for her to accept it. To tangle her legs in his, enjoy the heat and cover of the blankets strewn over them, and revel in their close proximity as she waits for sleep to turn off the flickering lights of activity in her mind.

 


End file.
